Recreational Suffering

Here in New England winter started last week. The morning temps were in the 20s and the wind howled. Coming suddenly as it did (it had been nearly 70 the week before), the transition was a bit painful. But I'm not one to complain. I ride, so I rode.

Then yesterday my friend Sam suggested we take a long afternoon ride, so I geared up and rolled out with him about 1:30. At that point the temperature was about 35. We headed West, into the wind. Our route followed a steady 5 mile climb, not steep at all, but very gradual and constant and somewhat tiring even in good conditions. We had a head wind, roughly 15 miles an hour, which, at that temperature makes for some tough riding. Our faces went numb. Our legs ached. We sweated out into our wool over-garments.

It's 13 miles out to Bedford from my house. It took us an hour, and when we arrived my back was beginning to cramp from see-sawing exertion, pushing uphill into the wind. Probably my form sucks, in as much as I can be said to have "form."

And I wondered to myself, "Why am I doing this? Is this fun?"

It was.

We stopped for coffee on the way back, and then of course, we got a 5 mile downhill with the wind at our backs.

Today it's 50. Tomorrow almost 60. Next week, it'll probably snow.